Second Chances
by Hotcorner
Summary: Originally published in 1997 as a novella. When Captain Gregg fears that his presence in the lives of the Muir family is denying them true happiness, he makes a decision that ultimately affects the future of everyone involved, including himself.
1. Chapter 1

**THE GHOST & MRS. MUIR**

_SECOND CHANCES_

By Laurie Bryant

Carolyn Muir rolled down the window of the station wagon as she drove into town. After a cool, rainy spring Schooner Bay was finally, in mid-June, enjoying warm, sunny days. The drive into town was not a long one, but it afforded her the opportunity to be alone with her thoughts, away from the various distractions of Gull Cottage. Most often, she gratefully let her mind wander as she listened to the songs on the radio. Lately, however, all the lyrics of all the songs seemed to remind her of the one subject which occupied her thoughts in recent weeks, consuming both her consciousness and her dreams. This ride was no different, and as the sound of Motown's latest hit played through the inadequate single speaker in the dashboard she felt the familiar physical response once again, the warmness in her body and the inability to concentrate on anything else but the words ringing in her ears, as though singing out only to her:

_Someday, we'll be together..._

She eased the car into an open space in front of Ollie Wilkins' General Store, pausing before turning off the engine so she could hear the end of the song. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the headrest, not really enjoying the song but contemplating the abstract meanings of _someday_, and of _together_.

After the announcer broke in over the last chorus of the music, she removed her key and started off into the general store, needing to choose Father's Day cards for her own father and her former father-in-law. As she perused the limited selection she heard a familiar voice over her shoulder.

"Oh, Mrs. Muir, how nice to see you out and about."

Carolyn turned and faced the woman next to her. Although she was barely visible beneath the armful of items she held, Carolyn recognized the woman instantly.

"Thank you, Carolyn said. "Looks like you're buying out the store, are you expecting an army?"

"Oh, this? No. I'm in charge of buying supplies for the school's Father's Day activities. There's so much to do, what with the dance and the box lunches for the bus trip into Boston..."

Carolyn's face revealed her confusion. "Activities?"

"Didn't you get the flyer? It went home with the kids last week. And there's posters up all over town." She indicated a poster taped to Mr. Wilkins' cash register.

"I'm afraid I haven't been in town much lately," Carolyn shrugged. "I've been working on a story..."

"A lonely writer, locked away behind closed doors with only a typewriter for company?" Mrs. Coburn's genuine look of pity annoyed Carolyn more than a bit.

"Something like that...If you'll excuse me." Carolyn turned back to the cards fingering several, hoping she could be left alone.

"Come to think of it, I didn't see Candy or Jonathan's names on either of the reservations lists. But I guess that's to be expected, under the circumstances." This last was followed by yet another sympathetic cock of her perfectly coifed head.

"Circumstances?" A mother first, Carolyn could not let reference to her kids pass without comment.

Mrs. Coburn seemed surprised that Carolyn didn't catch her drift. "Well, you know, dear, it being Father's Day and all.." She practically whispered the last part.

"It's all right, Mrs. Coburn. We know it's Father's Day." Carolyn forced a smile as she held up the greeting cards in her hand. "And I'm sure we can work out some way for my children to join in the fun assuming, of course, that we'd be welcome..."

"Of course, we'd love to have them!"

_Here comes the 'but'._

"But, you understand, that the dance is a father-daughter affair, everyone is welcome, but the girls are to be escorted by, well...men. And as for the bus trip, the dad's are taking the boys to the baseball game in Boston. You'd be the only woman on the bus..."

Carolyn stubbornly refused to give in. "Great. I love baseball, and as for the dance I... know how to lead."

"Oh." Mrs. Coburn was obviously not thrilled with the prospect of Mr. Coburn spending the day on a bus with Carolyn Muir. "Well, ah, call me if you need any of the details, Mrs. Muir. That's great, that's really great..." Not terribly convincing, she shuffled her way down the narrow aisle and plopped her items on the counter in a heap.

"It's great, all right," Carolyn mumbled to herself. _Why didn't the kids mention anything? Why is Schooner Bay so small that my kids are the only ones in grammar school without a father? Why doesn't this store have any good cards? _She disgustedly put back most of the cards in her hand, deciding to buy the best of a bad lot.

"Oh, Mrs. Muir," called Mrs. Coburn from the register area. "I have a wonderful idea! My cousin James is coming in from Portland for a visit, he'll be here for about a week and he won't know a soul except for my family..."

_Oh God_, thought Carolyn, _she's trying to set me up! Let me guess, we have a lot in common..._

"...and he actually reads those fancy magazines from Boston, so you have so much in common!"

_And he can read! Well, that settles it..._

"You really should get back out in the world, Carolyn. Start living..."

_Living. Someday. _ "I don't think so, Mrs. Coburn. But thanks for thinking of me."

Mr. Wilkins had finished boxing up Mrs. Coburn's purchases. "Put it on the school's bill please, Mr. Wilkins. Well, so long, Mrs. Muir. I'm off to buy a new outfit for the dance. That husband of mine loves when I get all dolled up." She hoisted the box and gathered her purse from the counter. "Let me know if you change your mind, those kids need a father and it wouldn't hurt you to have someone to look good for again..."

Carolyn watched as she departed the store, recalling the sincere compliment paid her by the Captain that very morning and the bittersweet joy it brought her to see the look in his eyes when he said it. She had awakened early and opened the French doors to the balcony off the bedroom. She knew the open doors were an invitation for him to appear to her.

_Oh, Captain, I just love the sunrise over the ocean, don't you?_

_It is the second most beautiful sight I have ever seen, Mrs. Muir._

"Don't pay her no mind, Mrs. Muir,' said Mr. Wilkins with a shy grin. "Plenty of people appreciate how good you look. I know I do every time you come in."

"Why thank you , Mr. Wilkins," Carolyn responded. "I think..."

After paying for her own purchases, Carolyn decided to stop in and see Claymore about a few minor repairs. She found him in his office just finishing a telephone call.

"Oh, Mrs. Muir!" Claymore rose from behind his desk and crossed to meet her at the door, ushering her in and pulling up a chair for her. "It's so nice to see you. How lovely you look today, just lovely!"

"What are you up to, Claymore?"

"Up to? Me? Why, Mrs. Muir, can't I simply be glad to see my favorite tenant and friend?" He sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his hands in his lap. "Now, what brings you into this dreary, lifeless office on such a beautiful day? Business or pleasure?"

"Both, actually. I've made a list of a few minor things that need fixing around Gull Cottage," she handed him a piece of paper from her purse. "Nothing urgent, but I wanted to make you aware."

Claymore took it with excited pleasure. "Repairs? Oh-hoh...That's wonderful, Mrs. Muir. I shall make note of these at once. In fact, if you can think of anything else that's wrong, anything at all, please don't hesitate..."

"Why thank you, Claymore," said Carolyn, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"...as long as it's before four o'clock." _Ker-plunk._

"Why, what happens at four o'clock?"

"Ah. Well, you see Mrs. Muir, it's nothing, really. It's just that I have an appraiser coming out to check the house today at four..."

'Well that explains it," interrupted Carolyn.

"Explains what?"

"Why you've been charming me half to death ever since I walked in here today," she shook her head firmly. "I'm not getting in the middle of this, Claymore. You'll just have to tell the Captain yourself."

"But, Mrs. Muir, you know how he feels about strangers in his house! And in order to lower the property taxes on Gull Cottage I need to convince the appraiser that the value has gone down since the last appraisal. And in order for the appraiser to see what terrible condition the house is in he needs to see the house, all of it, inside and out."

"Claymore! Gull Cottage may need a few minor repairs but it is not in terrible condition. Martha keeps that house spotless, and we have done our best to make it livable again after YOU neglected it for years!"

"That's another thing, Mrs. Muir. If you could kind of, you know, mess it up a little before the appraiser arrives I would really appreciate it..."

"Claymore!"

"Well, Mrs. Muir, I have been stuck with that old house for years. HE won't let me sell it, he won't even let me raise your rent! Which, incidentally, just covers the current tax on the property, which means, that I get nothing out of it! My own house! It just isn't fair, Mrs. Muir, and I intend to do something about it. Now, if I can't raise the rent I am going to lower the tax and get my profit that way. It's the American way!" Claymore stood and proudly straightened his tie.

"It may be the American way, but it certainly isn't the Gregg way. The Captain will never allow it."

"Ah hah! And that's where you come in..."

"NO!"

"Uhhh!," Claymore surrendered, chewing on his fingertips in thought. Steeled by the prospect of saving money, he set his fears aside. "Oh, all right. I'll come over this afternoon to explain it to him."

"Good."

"I'll reason with him.

"Okay."

"I'll appeal to his good nature..."

"Great."

"...His sense of fair play. His sense of family pride..."

"...and loyalty," Carolyn finished.

"Right," said Claymore. "It's not going to work, is it?"

"Not a chance," Carolyn smiled.

Claymore fell dejectedly into his chair. He looked up at her from above the frame of his glasses. "Was there something else I could do for you, Mrs. Muir?"

Carolyn watched him for a moment, actually feeling a bit sorry for him. She knew how exasperating the Captain could be. She also knew all the other things he could be, things Claymore could never conceive of. For a moment, it occurred to her that she was perhaps the only person to know the Captain, to really know him in every way. Well, almost every way...

"Mrs. Muir?"

"Oh yes, Claymore, there is something else. I have a favor to ask..." She noticed his incredulous look and quickly added, "It's not for me, it's for Candy and Jonathan."

"The children?"

At least she had hit a weak spot, or at least as close to a weak spot as Claymore had for anything other than money.

He sat up in his chair and leaned across his desk. "Very well, what is it?"

She hesitated before continuing, "You know about the Father's Day activities that the school is putting on?"

"Of course, there are posters all over town."

_Does everyone know about this but me?_ "That's the one. Well, since Candy and Jonathan don't have a ..." she couldn't bring herself to say it. "...male escort, I was wondering if maybe you might..." She shrugged as her voice trailed off.

"Go as the Captain? Mrs. Muir, I have retired my beard, the spirit gum gave me such a rash."

"No, no. You could go as yourself. Dear, sweet, lovable Uncle Claymore. It would mean a lot to them..."

"I am not without feeling, Mrs. Muir, and I am very fond of your children." He was now sensitive, introspective Claymore. "You know, I would someday like to escort my own brood to such events." He seemed deep in thought.

"Then you'll do it?"

"I would love to do it, in fact, I would be honored." Claymore placed his hand over his heart.

_But..._

"...But, one hand washes the other, Mrs. Muir. And right, now, I have a very dirty hand." He held up his hand and inspected his fingernails.

Carolyn sighed. "I'll see what I can do, Claymore. But, I don't promise anything!"

"Oh, thank you , Mrs. Muir. All you have to do is get the Captain to let Mr. Anderson in the house, I will take care of the rest. Now he's a very nervous man, Mrs. Muir, you know the type..."

"I think I do," smiled Carolyn.

"He's heard all the talk about Gull Cottage being, you know, haunted. It's taken me months just to get him to agree to come over. So, it's important that he be left completely alone to do his job. No spooks or specter's of any kind..."


	2. Chapter 2

SECOND CHANCES

_Part Two_

Carolyn finished up her last few errands and loaded up the station wagon for the ride home. She wanted to be home before the school bus, so she could greet the kids and, hopefully, figure out why they had failed to even mention the Father's Day events. She assumed that it had something to do with feeling awkward about not being able to go with their own father. Although they had seemed comfortable with their new lives in Schooner Bay, perhaps they felt as she did; that small town life magnified their family situation tenfold. Certainly, Carolyn felt the 'poor, young widow' every time she went into town. And it seemed that everyone, especially the married women in town, had taken it upon themselves to locate a potential husband for her. And if Mrs. Coburn was any indication, they were now interviewing potential fathers for the children as well.

How could she explain that she had no interest in meeting any mortal man at the moment? It had taken her a long time to face her feelings for the Captain, to admit that he had reached a part of her that she had not even known existed. After months of denial, she was struggling to accept the facts of their very private and very impossible situation. Carolyn knew she had always enjoyed the Captain's attention, even solicited it. But she was much less forthcoming with her own emotions. At first, she found that it was easy to deny feelings that they had never acted upon and, in fact, would never act upon. At least not in this life, not in her life. However, as they grew more and more comfortable with each other they seemed to push the envelope of their relationship a bit farther with each stolen moment. And with each step forward there was an equal and opposite backlash of torment, suffered privately by both of them, building, growing, never to be eased by the spoken word..

_Snap out of it, Carolyn, how can you even consider your feelings for another man while the kids are still feeling the loss of their father. Stop being so selfish. They need you._

As Carolyn turned her car into the property, she forced herself to put all thoughts of the Captain out of her mind, at least for the moment. She got out of the car, feeling guilty and focusing on the children as she brought her packages into the house.

She was unloading the grocery items in the kitchen when he appeared in the kitchen. "Not now, Captain. I'm very busy and I need to speak to the children privately when they get off the bus." She spoke brusquely, self-conscious about her latest private thoughts about him. She also felt that it would be best if he were elsewhere when she discussed her late husband with the children. "So if you don't mind..."

"I merely wanted to see how your excursion into town went, Mrs. Muir. You were gone quite a while..."

"Why, did you miss me, Captain?" She was not quite teasing but, rather, accusing.

"Certainly not," he straightened, bluffing. "However, as of late, I have become rather accustomed to your presence in the house, and well, when you are absent the house tends to...list to one side." He spread his hands unevenly in front of him. "It is a matter of balance, you see." He studied his hands carefully, evening them out as he finished.

"Perfectly. You missed me."

He smiled. "And if I did?"

_Not now, Captain, please not now._ "Look, I said I was busy..."

"Is everything all right, Mrs. Muir? Did something happen in town to upset you?"

"No, Captain, nothing. Only that I've discovered that Candy and Jonathan are keeping secrets from me and that half of Schooner Bay is playing matchmaker for the poor widow Muir and any unmarried man in the state of Maine." Of course, she failed to mention that she was also having trouble dealing with him at the moment.

"Matchmaker? Why don't those small town busybodies keep to their own affairs? What did she say when you told her to shove off?" He was obviously gleefully awaiting her response.

"What makes you think I told her that?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" He knew her so well. "Of course you did," he added, then just a touch insecure, "didn't you?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Coburn's cousin sounded very nice. He's very...well read." _Why am I doing this? The kids will be home any minute._

"Another New England lothario in thick glasses, eh?" Once again self-assured, he smiled at her.

"Blast it, Captain! Is there anyone you would approve of for me?" She was now sincerely angry and tense, much more so than the situation seemed to warrant.

"I can think of only one with enough winning qualities to be worthy of you, Madam." The Captain, trying to cheer her, unwittingly struck a nerve.

"Really?" Carolyn's response was terse. "And who might that be?" She said, setting a trap.

"Why, me, of course." He playfully gave her a noble bow and sweep of his arm.

"Of course. But you fail to realize that Mrs. Coburn's cousin has one 'winning' quality that you don't. He's alive."

"Yes." The tone of his voice indicated that he had not missed the barb directed at him. "It's a shame that life is wasted on the living."

"Isn't that supposed to be 'youth is wasted on the young,' Captain?"

"The message is the same, Madam. People don't appreciate what gifts they've got until they are gone. Youth, life..."

"What about those of us who are waiting to die so we can start living?" Carolyn found herself startled by her own words and turned her back on him to put the last of the canned goods into the cabinet.

"Would you care to explain that last remark, Mrs. Muir?"

"Not really, no." She turned again and looked into his blue eyes and knew at once that he had understood very well the significance of what she had said. "I didn't think I'd have to..."

The Captain met her gaze and sensed the need in her expression. They had always played a cat and mouse game of true confessions, but their private moments had often lately fallen prey to bickering and stony silence, as usual around the time things got too personal for comfort. He sensed a difference, though, in that while Carolyn had always seemed to welcome, if not respond to, his declarations of affection in the past, she now frequently seemed to resent them. He had noticed that Carolyn had become increasingly serious and distracted of late, but he told himself that it was due to the pressure of her latest writing project. This was the first he had allowed himself to consider that, perhaps, there was another reason...

He was about to respond when Scruffy's barking at the front door signaled the arrival of Claymore.

Carolyn covered her face with her hands. "Oh, blast! Claymore. I completely forgot..."

The Captain was equally upset at their interruption, but pleased that he would have the opportunity to take it out on his nephew. "Claymore? I'll soon have him turned into chum..."

They heard Claymore in the entryway, being let in by Martha.

"Oh, no," said Carolyn, trying to hold up her end of the bargain, although her heart was not in it. "You'll do no such thing. I told him he could come."

"Hello, Mrs. Muir, Captain," greeted Claymore as he sheepishly entered the kitchen. He was carrying his toolbox, which was most likely intended to create, and not fix, a few more 'problems' before Mr. Anderson's arrival. He leaned in close to Carolyn, as if to speak privately. 'Did you ask him? Is... is it all right?"

"Ask me what? Is what all right?" asked the Captain impatiently, turning his attention from one to the other as he spoke.

"Mrs. Muir, you promised..." pleaded Claymore.

"Captain, Claymore has invited an appraiser to come and examine Gull Cottage..." Carolyn explained.

"For what purpose?" The Captain narrowed his eyes, knowing Claymore did not do anything unless there was something in it for him.

"To assess the fair value of this historic homesite," said Claymore, the confident salesman. He placed his hand over his heart in reverence.

"Value which has, no doubt, increased in recent years," offered the Captain, still suspicious of his nephew's motives.

"Well, Captain. It is a very old house, you know. Lots of creaks and groans, (no pun intended, of course) and I wouldn't be surprised if the value has actually gone down..." He shook his head in sad disappointment.

The light of understanding shone in the Captains icy blue stare. "Bringing your property taxes with it?"

"Hopefully, yes," said Claymore, then catching himself, "No! Captain, that is the furthest thing from my mind!"

"Out! Out, you sneaky, malicious misrepresentation of manhood...This is a home, blast it! Not a cash cow!"

Claymore turned and ran, leaving his toolbox on the table behind him. "Mrs. Muir, we had a deal!"

The door opened seemingly by itself to find Mr. Anderson, slightly early for the appointment, just about to knock. He was nearly run over by Claymore fleeing the house.

"Mr. Gregg! What's wrong?"

"Never mind! Run for your life!"

"What about the appraisal?"

"Forget it! I love taxes, the higher the better! Ahhhh!" Claymore jumped into his car, ducking his toolbox which had unceremoniously followed him out the door.

Mr. Anderson stood frozen for a moment, clipboard in hand. He jumped as he heard Martha's voice from the doorway behind him.

"Hello," she said smiling, as if nothing had happened. "Welcome to Gull Cottage. Won't you come in?"

Mr. Anderson paused for a moment and then bolted for his truck.

Martha shrugged and closed the door. "One thing we never have to worry about around here is company overstaying their welcome."

Back in the kitchen, Carolyn had seated herself at the table and was running her hands through her hair. She nervously checked her watch. "I don't know where they can be, they must have had trouble with the bus again..."

The Captain reappeared to her, brushing his hands together, happy to be rid of both intruders. It was obvious to him that she was still very upset about something and he assumed it somehow involved him. He was about to speak when he was interrupted again, this time by the horn of the arriving school bus.

Carolyn stood up. "Captain, I really do need to speak to the children alone."

"Perhaps I can help..." His offer was sincere, although not totally directed at whatever concerned the children.

"No." She whirled around, desperate for him to leave. She didn't want the Captain to hear them discussing her husband and she didn't want the children to feel they were slighting the Captain by thinking about their father. And she didn't want to admit that she felt guilty herself. After all, if she was going to be in love with a dead man, shouldn't it be her late husband? "This is a family problem and it doesn't concern you."

"I see," came the quick reply. He disappeared.

Carolyn closed her eyes, wondering why she kept hurting him. The kids rushed in to the room, tossing their books on to the counter.

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi, Mom."

"Hi kids, how was school today?"

"Okay."

"Okay, the bus had a flat tire!." Jonathan always found bus trouble exciting.

"Anything new at school?"

They both shook their blond heads in reply.

"I saw Mrs. Coburn in town today..."

The kids looked at one another, obviously guilty to an experienced mother's eye.

"Kids, why didn't you say anything about the Father's Day dance or the bus trip?" She knelt on the floor beside them, to put them at ease.

Candy and Jonathan looked at each other again, reluctant to answer. Finally, Candy spoke.

"We just don't want to go, Mom."

"May I ask why?" After getting no response, she directed her next question to Jonathan. "Jonathan, doesn't the bus trip sound like fun?"

"No," came the quiet reply. "Who wants to go on some dumb bus trip anyway? I hate buses...and baseball."

"Really? Since when?"

"Since all the guys are going with their fathers. Everybody keeps bragging about how their dad is the greatest..."

"Oh, Jonathan," she put her arms around him to comfort him.

"...and I have the best dad in the whole world and I can't even tell anyone!"

"What?" Carolyn sat back on her heels in surprise.

"It's not fair!" The boy was near tears.

"He's right, Mom. Penelope Hassenhammer says her father is a such a great dancer. And he's already ordered her the biggest corsage in Boston. They're shipping it in special, just for her."

"Well, honey, you could still go to the dance. Claymore said he'd love to take you, and we could get you a great corsage..."

"Oh Mom, I don't wanna go with Claymore, I wanna go with Captain Gregg. We'd show that Penelope Hassenhammer. I bet Captain Gregg is a terrific dancer..."

"He is.. I mean, I'm sure he is, but..." Carolyn tried to comprehend the unexpected turn of events. She looked at her children. "Is that what this is all about?"

"Sure, Mom. What else?" Candy shrugged.

"Jonathan?" Carolyn turned to her son.

"Gee, Mom, it wouldn't be any fun to go without Captain Gregg. Besides, Claymore would probably get carsick anyway."

"You mean bus-sick," corrected Candy.

"It's the same thing!"

"Okay, kids, you go on up and change into your play clothes. We'll figure this out later."

Carolyn watched them leave. She got to her feet, suddenly aware of the true magnitude and scope of the 'family' problem. Her children were not upset about not having a father, they were upset at not being able to show off the one they had. The Captain was the father they were mourning. For all her recent focus on the Captain's presence in her life, she had failed to consider how vital he was to them.

How could she have missed it? Even Claymore had picked up on it. _Go as the Captain?_ he had asked, indicating that even he was fully aware of just whose place he would be taking. Carolyn had selfishly believed that she was alone in her need for the Captain, alone in her need for more from him. She now realized that the children, in their own way, wanted and needed him in their lives just as much as she did.

She again sat down at the table. Preoccupied, with her back to the doorway, she was unaware of the Captain's troubled presence behind her. Not usually one to eavesdrop, his concern and curiosity had gotten the better of him and he had silently witnessed most of the conversation with the children.

Carolyn, overwhelmed and frustrated, buried her face in her hands and wondered what she could possibly tell her children to ease their burden. She wondered what she could possibly do to ease her own.

The Captain's eyes never left her as she rose and ascended the stairs to the bedroom, closing the door behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

**SECOND CHANCES**

_Part Three_

Carolyn sat in the quiet of her bedroom staring at a blank page in her typewriter. Although her deadline was fast approaching, her thoughts were with her children. She had thought that they had adjusted to life with one parent, and for the most part they had. Moving to Gull Cottage had definitely helped ease the transition.

_And you know why. Why can't you just admit it? He helped us. All of us. And that is precisely the problem. We are not a one parent family, not since coming here. Not since..._

Carolyn looked up, this time sensing the Captain's presence behind her. She spoke without turning to face him, her voice tense.

"What is it, Captain? I've got a lot of work to do."

The Captain maneuvered in front of her desk. Knowing Carolyn well, he was fully aware that she was upset by the events that had taken place in the kitchen, both between them and with the children. Unsure of how best to handle what he had overheard, he proceeded carefully. "I had rather hoped we might have a talk, Mrs. Muir. You don't seem quite yourself."

Carolyn looked at him for the first time since he entered the room. "Don't I, Captain Gregg?" There was a definite emphasis on her use of his formal name.

A bit confused by her tone, he pressed on. "Are you upset about something? Perhaps I can help."

"Help? No, Captain," she lied, "this has nothing to do with you."

"Madam, I overheard Jonathan and Candy in the kitchen earlier."

She stared at him, half relieved that he already knew the truth and half angry that he had caught her in a lie. "Well then you know you can't help with this one. Not unless you'd care to pop in at the ball game with Jonathan or take Candy to the dance."

"Madam, you know I would do all those things, and more, were I able."

She turned on him, unable to suppress her frustration any longer. It was bad enough when it involved only herself, but now she had her children to consider. "But you're not able, are you? No matter how much we pretend to be one big happy family, we are never going to change that fact. But don't worry, Claymore has agreed to stand in for you...again." There was a touch of sarcasm in her voice, which the Captain chose to ignore.

"Well, that's something, anyway. Poor substitute though he is, at least the children will have the opportunity to participate with their classmates." He rubbed his ear thoughtfully. "I'm afraid it seems this Father's Day is weighing heavily on their shoulders. I suppose it is sometimes difficult for them without their father on board." He stood straight and clasped his hands behind his back, not allowing his manner to show how distasteful he found both Claymore's involvement and having to mention their blood father. He was, however, satisfied that he had removed himself as the focus of the conversation.

Carolyn would not allow it. "I'm afraid you don't understand, Captain, it's not the classmates they want to be with, or their father for that matter, it's you."

She met his eyes with her own. Her emotions now getting the best of her, she was fighting back tears of frustration. It was a losing battle. "Jonathan's right, it's not fair." She put her head in her hands, leaning on her typewriter.

"Is this just about the children?" He knew full well the answer.

"No. Yes. I don't know. It's everything. I just feel like I'm on this emotional roller coaster ride, and just when we reach a peak we careen off into this empty valley and then pretend nothing happened. I can't pretend anymore..." Now crying, Carolyn was obviously distraught, but was also relieved that she was finally expressing the feelings which had consumed her the last few weeks. "I know you want to help, but the children need something right now that you just can't give them."

The Captain's lack of a physical form was not usually a matter for serious discussion within the household. Most often their feelings on the subject remained obvious, but unspoken. She paused, took a breath and continued. "And as for me..." She tearfully met his gaze, knowing her words would hurt him, but needed to be said. "As for me, how can I lean on you when I can't even..._lean _on you?" Carolyn shrugged miserably, knowing there was nothing he could say in return.

The Captain drew closer, bending to one knee in front of her so that they were eye to eye.

"Mrs. Muir," he said softly. He felt helpless. He wished he could just touch her, even for a moment.

Having him so near and the tender tone of his voice was more than Carolyn could bear. Exhausted and fragile, she so wanted to fall into his arms. She craved the intimacy that his voice conveyed and yet knew they were prisoners of the forced formality revealed in the words with which he addressed her. The constant contradiction, although a common fact of their daily routine, was too heavy a burden at the moment. She exploded in a tearful rage, flying out of her seat and moving away from him.

"Don't come near me!" She nearly spat her words at him, needing someone to blame for their situation. "No! We must keep our polite distance, mustn't we? 'Mrs. Muir', 'Captain Gregg' Madam'." She mocked his accent. "My God, this is just one big formal tea party to you, isn't it? You get to play the proper gentleman suitor, popping in and out as the mood strikes you. You toy with our emotions and then retreat behind your invisible wall of formality." She looked at him accusingly, her pain very real and very evident.

Shocked, the Captain slowly rose and approached her. They had quarreled before, they had enjoyed many pleasant, even loving, moments together but in all their time together, he had never seen her so openly emotional with him. They had both always pulled back before crossing that line of unrestrained expression. Although concerned for her, he was also injured by her words.

"Tea party? Is that what you think? You think I enjoy all this? Do you think I enjoy seeing the children hurting, or _you _for that matter, knowing that I am at fault?" The Captain looked at her, searching her eyes for some indication that she was aware of his own true feelings and pain.

Finding his honesty comforting, her expression softened somewhat, the worst of her fury over. Still, Carolyn still needed to see this conversation through to some sort of end. She wiped her eyes took a shaky breath. She forced a small laugh to try to regain her composure.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't blame you. It's my fault, really, I've let this go too far. The children have come to see you as their father, which is wonderful, but can you blame them for being confused? Poor Jonathan worships you and he can't even admit you exist outside this house! The same goes for Candy. I mean the other kids have normal families with normal fathers who don't walk through walls and who can take them to dances and ball games."

The Captain's frustration and anger at himself and their situation reached a boiling point. "Really. Well then, if those are the criteria, perhaps Claymore would be a better permanent choice for them. Maybe you should meet with that Coburn woman's cousin or brother or whatever he is, after all. Or perhaps you should marry one of those fair-haired dandies that are always leering at you as you walk through town. Is that what you want?"

"You know it's not." Her voice breaking with emotion, she walked away from him, out on to the balcony and leaned on the ships wheel, wrapping her arms around the spindles. She knew quite well that this was as close as she would come to actually touching him.

The Captain watched her go, regretting his tirade, cursing his spectral state, his heart breaking with every tear she shed. He followed her out, stopping very close behind her.

"And that's the problem." Carolyn's voice was barely above a whisper. "We both know what we want, don't we?" She turned around to face him. For a long moment they stood very close, her last words hanging in the air around them.

The Captain's voice lowered to that soft, melodic tone which Carolyn often heard in her dreams. "I cannot give you that which I do not possess."

His manner was kind, but firm. He was clearly uncomfortable with the conversation and felt that they were in uncharted waters. Knowing in his spirit's heart that Carolyn needed more from him but also knowing that once the line of intimacy, in their case verbal intimacy, was crossed there would be no return. Their safe haven of self-imposed formal distance was their only defense against the agony of their physical separation. He pulled away and crossed to the edge of the balcony near the opposite end of the French doors, putting some distance between them but he turned to her again before he spoke. "I am sorry for what has transpired here today. You know, if it were possible, I would give you and the children the world..." It was a small admission, but the best he could safely offer under the circumstances.

Carolyn smiled mournfully and shook her head. "I don't want the world." She looked so tired and sad. "Right now, all I want is a hug."

Seeing the stricken look on his face, she regretted her words immediately. She suddenly wanted the conversation to end. She tried to quickly fix her appearance and compose herself again. Her tone changed, becoming more matter-of-fact. "That brings us back to our original problem, which is, I believe, where you came in." She crossed in front of him and re-entered the bedroom. She sat down at the typewriter, unable to face him any longer.

"Thank you for your concern, Captain, but I'm sure we'll all muddle through just fine. It's all this Father's Day nonsense. We just need some time, that's all." She pulled out the blank paper in the machine and replaced it with another, equally blank piece. "Now if you'll excuse me, I really do have work to do..."

Captain Daniel Gregg stared, thunderstruck, at Carolyn's back, still reeling in the wake of her outpouring of feelings. He had absolutely no idea what he could say to help Carolyn, or the children. It was obvious that she no longer wanted to continue their conversation, and he felt no small relief at that. But still, he thought, I must say something...

"I...ah, that is..." he didn't even know how he should address her. "Are you going to be all right?"

Without looking up she responded, "Yes, Captain. I'm fine. Really. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to be alone."

"As you wish, Madam." And he was gone.

He didn't see her wince when he called her 'Madam,' and he never saw the shaking sobs which followed his departure from the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**SECOND CHANCES**

_Part Four_

Some time later, in the attic of Gull Cottage Captain Gregg stood silently by the window, watching the Muir children playing in the yard. With Scruffy playfully jumping at their feet, Candy was giving Jonathan pointers on the fine art of hitting a baseball. The Captain usually took pleasure in such observances, but today it only served to drive home his growing feelings of inadequacy, feelings which were completely foreign to him prior to meeting the family now in residence in his home.

_Poor lad! Learning a man's game like baseball at the hands of a female. _ The Captain shook his head, failing to dismiss the other thought fighting for expression. _A boy should learn from a man, from his father. How I wish..._

Martha's voice could be heard calling from the stairway near the kitchen, distracting him momentarily.

"Mrs. Muir, dinner is nearly ready!"

"Thank you, Martha. I'll be down in a minute."

"Okay. I'll call in the troops."

"Right. Make sure they wash up for dinner!"

As he listened to the brief exchange, the Captain could hear the strain of their earlier conversation in Carolyn's voice. She had been crying and he knew it. And once again, he was powerless to comfort her. What's more, it tortured him to know he was the cause of her pain.

"Blast!" He pounded the window frame in frustration, unleashing a torrent of dust into the air.

"Now Captain, I'd have hoped that a century of solitude would have cured you of that temper."

The Captain turned to face the voice behind him. A moment's hesitation soon gave way to recognition and he realized his uninvited guest was a spirit known only as Digby, a high ranking emissary of the spirit world. Gray haired and attired in a full English morning coat and ascot, Digby was the very image of proper British authority. In fact, in life he had been courtier to royals. In death, he had continued to serve, albeit a higher authority.

The Captain recalled that their first, and last, meeting had been at the time of his death a century ago. Digby had informed him upon his passing that his spirit was tied to Gull Cottage and would remain so until further notice. Needless to say, their last meeting was not particularly pleasant for either of them, especially not for one, recently deceased, Daniel Gregg.

"Digby. To what do I owe this dubious honor? Or is it your habit to drop by once every hundred years or so with bad news?"

"And the sarcasm remains as well. It's good to see some things never change, old boy." He cheerfully patted the Captain on the shoulder, prompting a rather sideways look from the wary mariner.

"If we can dispense with the pleasantries, I assume there is a reason you have boarded my ship without permission. I should like to hear it." His voice, calm and controlled, belied the fact that the Captain was certainly not in the mood for visitors.

"I have been sent to help, my boy. Apparently there is a problem which necessitates...shall we say, divine intervention?" Digby toyed with the ends of his handlebar mustache as he spoke, obviously enjoying the Captain's predicament.

"Whatever are you babbling about? Shove off, man. I'll see you in another hundred years." He dismissed Digby with a wave of his hand and turned back to the window facing the now empty yard.

"Indeed?" Digby got straight to the business at hand. "I have been told that your present...arrangement has become rather intolerable for all involved. Is this not so?"

The Captain again turned to face Digby. Suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation, he acknowledged to himself that one did not receive a visit from such an esteemed emissary for social reasons. The fact that he was apparently aware of the current troubles under The Captain's roof was certainly not good news.

Deciding to minimize the damage, the Captain spoke in more friendly tones.

"Oh, just a bit of rough seas at the moment, nothing to be concerned about." He casually crossed his arms and stroked his beard. "I'm afraid you've wasted your time here. We shall weather this squall, as we always have."

"'Rough seas', Captain? I'm afraid there is a bit more to it than that. I am very well informed of your situation. Despite your mutual affection the children are confused, Mrs. Muir is increasingly unhappy..."

The Captains' posture snapped to attention, rigidly defensive at the mere mention of Carolyn's name, not to mention the invasion of privacy.

"Bilge! You pop in here for the first time in a century and proceed to tell me about my family. You know nothing about her..."

"I know that she is a beautiful, vibrant young woman courageously raising two wonderful children." He paused and squarely met the Captain's icy gaze before continuing. "And I know that if this present situation continues she will never again feel the touch of a man who loves her."

The Captain felt his Irish temper bubble with the frustration of hearing the truth, _their _truth, spoken for the first time, from the lips of an outsider. Barely controlling his rage, he approached the tidy man before him, unconsciously extending his long arm in the direction of the attic door.

"GET OUT! Get out before I toss you to the sharks! You meddling, insolent,..."

"I shall do no such thing," interrupted Digby, nonplused by the Captain's outburst. "Get control of yourself, my dear Captain. As I've said, I was sent to help resolve this problem and resolve it we shall." Digby clasped his hands behind him and reared back on his heels in determined confidence.

The Captain, regaining his composure, stood down and straightened his jacket. He nodded respectfully to the older man, a silent apology which was met with small nod in return.

"I suppose you have some solution in mind," said the Captain, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"No, actually...I wanted to hear from you first. And I rather hoped that you could provide some solution yourself."

"I cannot devise a solution to a problem I do not recognize." He stood stubbornly straight, tugging at his shirtsleeves.

"Oh, come now, Captain," huffed Digby. "Surely you must recognize how unfair this situation is. I mean, you are bound by the spirit world, but Mrs. Muir is not."

"What are you saying, man? Stop pussyfooting around, out with it!"

"As you wish. Man to man, don't you think it a bit harsh to condemn that beautiful young woman to a life of celibacy?"

The Captain's breath caught in his throat. Although he had always been comfortable discussing such matters among men in the past, the fact that it now involved Carolyn disturbed him greatly. The fact that it involved his own shortcomings disturbed him even more. He tried to lighten the mood and divert the conversation.

"Well, there's more to life than sex, isn't there?" The Captain managed a small wry smile.

"Coming from you, I find that rather amusing," Digby sniffed. He casually pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dusted off a chair. Seating himself, he carefully folded and replaced the small white cloth before continuing. "Tell me, Daniel, if the situation were reversed would _you _be able to forever resist the temptations of the flesh in favor of a spiritual lover?"

The Captain shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Once again, this was not a conversation he wanted to have, but there would be no getting around it now. As much as he didn't like it, he knew Digby wielded a great deal of power, and was a member of the inner circle of the spirit world to which they both belonged. He felt like a cabin boy called onto the carpet by his commanding officer. He was aware of a growing uneasiness at the turn their conversation had taken. He spoke quietly and deliberately, hating the fact that he had to share his most personal feelings.

"Despite the fact that we have never touched, I have gained more from my relationships within this family than all the other previous relationships in my life...or since."

"I do not doubt that for a moment. Alas, you have no choice in the matter, you must accept what what you are given. The Muir's are here by choice, although I suspect they are not completely free to go..." His voice trailed off, holding something back.

"I have no hold over them," responded the Captain to the unspoken inference.

"Don't you? Perhaps we have arrived at the root of our problem. Do you not realize the commitment that family has made to you?"

"Commitment? There can be no commitment, that has become very clear lately." The Captain turned his thoughts to the conversation which took place in the master bedroom just a short time ago. It all came back in a rush, the heated words, the tears, the flood of emotion, the anguish he felt at being directly asked for something as simple as a hug by the woman he so desperately loved and being unable to give it.

Digby sat in silence, staring up at the Captain as though reading his thoughts.

"You are all suffering, Captain. That much is obvious. What is not obvious, I suppose, is that we are partly to blame. And for that you have my sincerest apologies."

The Captain sat next to Digby, on the sea chest in which he kept his most valuable treasures. "What do you mean 'partly to blame'?"

Digby rose from the chair, clearing his throat. "You see, Captain, a complicated series of events brought you and the Muir's together in this house. I am unable to discuss them all with you at this moment. But, under the circumstances, it seemed the best fit for all involved. However, we underestimated the depths to which the emotional attachments would go. Emotions are so unpredictable, you know...makes my job quite difficult."

The Captain leaned his elbows on his knees and pressed his fist up to his lips. Of course, he knew that there were parts of the afterlife of which he had little or no knowledge. He had often wondered whether he and Carolyn had been brought together intentionally by some cruel manner of fate, or if their meeting had been truly accidental and was unbeknownst to the powers that be. It was easy to imagine himself forgotten by the spirit world as he toiled away the years alone in the out of the way cottage. Either way, he had alternately cursed and revered that very day in which Carolyn had come into his afterlife, bringing him face to face with a variety of emotions that he had never felt before.

"Is there a point to all of this? I mean you have boarded my ship, invaded my privacy...and for what? To relieve your guilty conscience? Let me assure you, we have managed just fine and will continue to do so without the benefit of your interference. Now if you'll leave me in peace..."

"I am afraid it's not that easy, my boy."

The Captain braced himself, knowing that the true reason for Digby's visit was about to become apparent.

"As you know, our world must never interfere with the world of the living. Granted, at times our paths may cross, but it is not acceptable to alter their destiny or to profoundly impact their lives beyond our intended purpose. At first, your spiritual presence here eased the pain of a young family trying to start anew. The boy needed you, that was your initial purpose. As for the lady, that was supposed to have been a lesson for _you. _ A penance, of sorts, for a variety of sins." Digby arched a disapproving eyebrow at the last remark. "In any case, I'm afraid it got out of hand without our realizing."

"I don't like the course you are steering," the Captain said abruptly. The last thing he needed was a reminder of his previous dalliances with women who were not Carolyn. "Where are you headed?"

"It was a mistake, Captain. You are now the source of pain to those in the living world. Your presence colors their actions. Caring for them as you do, I am sure you can see that this arrangement is no longer practical."

The Captain felt a flush across his entire being, he now knew his greatest fears were realized. He was about to be taken from the family, his family. He rose from his seat.

"Now wait just a blasted minute...you said yourself that we did nothing to deserve this! You, personally, tied me to this house and you've just admitted that you brought the Muir's here. Now you think that you can just haul me off my own ship like some misbehaving schoolboy off a playground?"

"Nobody is hauling you anywhere, Captain. That's not the way we work. I am merely an objective observer, a messenger, reminding you of your spiritual obligations. Gull Cottage is your home and you have every right to be here. The Muir family, bearing a legal lease, also has that right. However, under the circumstances, we are releasing you from the confines of the house. What you choose to do from here is your decision. I shall return in due time to discuss this matter further. Hopefully we can work out an arrangement that is best for all involved. I am sure you would want to act the best interests of the family."

"It is in the best interest of any family to be kept together." It was a plea as much as a statement.

"I know this is both difficult and extremely personal, Captain." Digby sounded quite sincere and sympathetic to the Captain's plight. "However, you have made many difficult decisions in your storied career and I trust your wisdom to prevail here as well. I will leave you to it. Good day." And with a respectful nod Digby was gone.

The Captain stood for a moment, pondering the gravity of the meeting which had just taken place.

_Blast him! Trying to scuttle my ship! I am in command here, and I am quite capable of protecting my crew. _Still he was unable to dismiss the thought nagging at the back of his mind, the growing fear that his mere presence was a detriment to those he swore to protect.

It was quite a while before he left the attic and the entire household had retired for the night. He made his way about the silent house, checking up on his loved ones. He paused for a long moment in the children's room, watching them sleep. He noticed a paper sticking out from beneath Jonathan's pillow. Carefully, he took it in his hands and held it to the window, illuminating it with moonlight. It was folded in two, a homemade card with a crude unfinished drawing of a fully rigged schooner on the front. Inside there was a message, written in blue crayon.

_Dear Captain Gregg, _

_Happy Father's Day!_

_Love, Jonathan_

_P.S. It would be neat if you were really my dad._

Holding the paper, the Captain felt his hands trembling. The sheer emotion of the days events weighed heavily on his strong shoulders. He replaced the paper and looked down at the sleeping little boy.

_Oh lad, would that I were your father. _Gazing out the window he searched the heavens for an answer. He once again heard the voices ringing in his minds ear.

_Your present arrangement has become intolerable for all involved._

_The children are confused, Mrs. Muir is unhappy..._

_I have the best dad in the whole world and I can't even tell anybody..._

_I don't want to go to the dance with Claymore, I wanna go with Captain Gregg..._

_I can't pretend anymore... our life is just one big formal tea party to you._

_She will never again feel the touch of a man who loves her_

_I just want a hug..._

He suddenly realized that Digby was right, he did have the ultimate hold over the family. They loved him and he knew that they would never willingly leave him, no matter how frustrating their nontraditional life together became. He also admitted that they would never have another living man in their lives as long as they remained in Gull Cottage. His own jealousy and possessiveness had clouded his judgment for so long that he had never before considered the implications of that fact for the living members of his family. Candy would never have a father to escort her to a dance or down the aisle of marriage, Jonathan would never sit next to his father at a Red Sox game and, as for Carolyn, much as it pained him to admit it, she did deserve the love of a man. A real live man who could give her the things he knew he never could. Things, as Digby had pointed out, he certainly had never denied himself in life. He had lived his life in his own time and now was interfering in the Muir family's ability to do the same.

Shaken and unable to overcome his feelings the Captain returned, sullen and morose, to his attic, bypassing the room in which Carolyn was sleeping. He knew that if he saw her, lying peacefully in his bed that he would never find the strength to do what he knew he must.


	5. Chapter 5

**SECOND CHANCES**

_Part Five_

Carolyn awoke with a heavy head and an equally heavy heart. Her eyes ached from crying herself to sleep and she felt the haze of emotional distress like a cloud over her consciousness. Although not completely able to focus, she was aware of a nagging feeling that something was wrong. As sleepiness cleared from her head, she tried to convince herself that she was simply feeling regret over her harsh confrontation with the Captain. In the light of a new morning, she felt ashamed of her outburst. She knew her words had hurt him and that the Captain could no more change their situation than she could herself.

Sitting up in bed, Carolyn stopped just short of calling out for him. Under the circumstances, she wisely decided that it would do neither of them any good for her to greet him in her current state of undress, much less while occupying his bed. She decided to go to the attic where they could speak privately and without the distraction of the emotional intimacy of the bedroom.

She rose and dressed quickly, then ran a brush through her blond hair, her sense of panic rising with each stroke. Unable to decide if it was nervousness or emptiness she felt deep within her soul, Carolyn knew whatever the cause for her discomfort there was only one cure. She slipped on her shoes and reached for the door; only to be met by the pajama-clad figure of Jonathan on the other side. Carolyn felt her heart drop. The boy was cradling a highly polished, sheathed Navy sword. She tried to avoid letting her writer's imagination get the best of her.

"Jonathan," she began, a little more curtly than she had intended. "I don't think you should be playing with that, it's dangerous and... it doesn't belong to you."

"I found it at the end of my bed when I woke up," he said softly.

_Oh God, no! _There must be a perfectly plausible explanation for one of the Captain's most honored and prized possessions to suddenly turn up at Jonathan's bedside.

"Well, maybe the Captain just...forgot it. You know, left it there by mistake." Even as she spoke, Carolyn knew how impossible that particular scenario sounded. By the downcast expression on her son's small face, he apparently agreed.

"I tried to return it, but I couldn't find him," he looked up, his eyes welling with tears. "He's gone, isn't he, Mom?"

"No, Jonathan." She refused to admit what they both knew in their hearts. "He is not gone. He may not be here right now, but he'll come back...He always comes back."

_My God, what have I done?_ She carefully took the sword from Jonathan's arms and sent him off to the bathroom to get ready for school. Holding it in her arms, she was aware of a strange feeling. Or was it the absence of a strange feeling? In the past, whenever she touched an object that was once one of the Captain's possessions, especially something personal, she always felt the sensation that he was near. It would begin as a warmness inside her and would often envelop her, as if drawing her closer to him. It was probably why she felt closest to him in the bedroom surrounded by his most personal effects, his telescope, his ship's wheel, his bed. But as she held the sheathed gleaming steel of the sword he once proudly wore with his uniform and wielded in his strong hand, she felt not his presence, but his absence.

Carolyn retreated back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. "Captain? Captain Gregg?" Not since the very first night she arrived at Gull Cottage, had she called to him with less conviction. At least then she was mostly convinced of his ghostly presence in the house. On this occasion, all she could do was hope that her desire to see him again could somehow transcend whatever time or distance now separated them.

After gently placing the sword at the foot of her own bed, she glanced at the clock. It was time to get the children off to school, although she did not relish the thought of facing Jonathan at the breakfast table. He was just as in tune to the Captain's spirit as she was, perhaps even more so, although in a different, less complicated way. How could she ever explain that she practically told the Captain that they would be better off without him. How could she face her son knowing that she was the one who drove the Captain away, possibly for good. Presenting his sword to Jonathan certainly seemed to indicate a premeditated, and lengthy, absence from his life. And hers.

Carolyn collapsed onto the unmade bed, unable to stop the tears from flowing again. "No," she cried into the rumpled bedclothes. "Please, God, no! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me...don't leave me..."

It was some time before she was able to collect herself long enough to get to the bathroom to wash up. She looked at her watch and realized that the school bus had already come and gone. Splashing water on her face she saw the puffy eyes and reddened nose which stared back in the mirror. There would be no way to hide, much less truthfully explain, her present condition to Martha. Still, she felt she had to at least make an appearance downstairs and, in the back of her mind, she hoped that she would find some clue as to his whereabouts.

She fixed herself as best she could and made her way downstairs. Upon reaching the foot of the stairs she glanced into the living room, praying she would see an elegantly written note on the mantle of the fireplace indicating that the Captain's absence was perfectly explainable and quite temporary. When there was no such note there, Carolyn decided that, perhaps, there had been something in the bedroom. She turned and raced back upstairs, scouring every inch of the tidy room, inspecting every shred of paper for his handwriting to no avail. Refusing to give up hope that there was another reason for his absence, she went back downstairs this time turning in to the kitchen where Martha was washing up the breakfast dishes.

"Oh, Mrs. Muir," Martha said without looking up from the sink. 'Good morning, I thought you had slept in. There's coffee in the..."

"Martha, have you seen the Captain?" Carolyn interrupted, hoping he had told her of his departure.

"Why no, as a matter of fact, I haven't. I thought Jonathan was a little quiet at breakfast," she laughed to herself, "nobody was telling him giant squid stories over my oatmeal," She turned off the water and dried her hands, turning to face Carolyn for the first time.

"Mrs. Muir, are you...feeling all right? You look a bit pale."

"Yes, Martha. I'm fine, really. Are you sure you didn't see the Captain at all this morning?"

Martha shook her head. "Not since yesterday when Claymore was here." Although she sensed she shouldn't pry, she had to ask, "Why? Is something wrong? Can I help?"

"No, thank you. I'm sure it's nothing." She took her coffee and left the kitchen. She didn't look back when Martha called out to her, offering her breakfast. "Not hungry," was all she could manage over the sickening feeling in her stomach.

Martha watched as Carolyn ascended the stairs with the absent-minded gait of a sleepwalker. _There's only one reason for a woman to be that miserable this early in the morning,_ she thought to herself, _and it's not lumpy oatmeal._

Several long, lonely days and nights passed with no sign of the absent Captain Gregg. Carolyn had tried her best to keep up a brave front, assuring the family that the Captain had simply gone away to tend some pressing business and that she was sure he would return as soon as he was able. The children tried their best to believe her, especially Jonathan, who insisted on sleeping with the Captain's sword at his bedside until he returned to claim it.

By the end of the week, Carolyn had managed to complete her article, though she was by no means pleased with the result. As her deadline was Monday, she decided to drive the article into the magazine offices in Boston herself. Martha encouraged her to go, sensing that she needed to get away from the house for a while anyway.

"And it's too much of a trip to do in one day, Mrs. Muir. Why not stay overnight and get a fresh start back Saturday morning? I'll take care of things here."

Carolyn gratefully accepted her housekeeper's offer, leaving very early on Friday morning, although she hated the thought of not being at home when the Captain returned...If he returned.

She drove most of the way without the radio, choosing instead to listen to the voices in her own head. Some of which told her that things would be fine, that he was hurt or merely trying to teach her a lesson and would return, arrogant and unrepentant, as if nothing had happened. However, she was unable to shut out the small echoing voice in the back of her mind which screamed that he would never return, that he had left them, probably because he thought it was the right thing to do. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she considered the very real possibility that she would never see him again in this life.

After dropping off her article, she checked into a small motel just outside of Boston. She called Martha, letting her know where she could be reached. Too tired for lunch or to do any of the errands she had planned, she opted instead for a bath and a nap. Of course, she dreamed of a certain sea captain.


	6. Chapter 6

**SECOND CHANCES**

_Part Six_

Captain Daniel Gregg suddenly found himself standing at the waters edge on a familiar beach, in the distance was Gull Cottage. With rage in his eyes he turned to Digby, who was standing beside him.

"Why have you summoned me here? To torture me? I did what you expected, now can't you leave me in peace? Must I spend eternity at the mercy of your sadistic whims?"

"Hardly, Captain. If you'll let me explain..."

"What possible explanation can there be?" He became aware of the faint sounds of the children playing in the front yard of the house. He looked longingly up toward his former residence. "To bring me back here, of all places, is the cruelest form of torment imaginable."

"You know, if you can't keep that temper in check, Captain, perhaps you are not yet ready for the next step. That's no sort of behavior from a family man."

"What in blazes are you talking about?" As the tides lapped gently at the waters' edge, the Captain tried to place a vague sensation he had not felt in some time. It was not until he followed Digby's downcast gaze that he fully recognized it. His feet were getting wet. Almost instinctively, he quickly stepped away from the rising water. It was another moment before he noticed that he was clad in unfamiliar clothes. Khaki slacks and a blue denim shirt, open at the collar,and of course, newly wet leather shoes.

He took in all the new sensations around him. Beside the damp feet, he felt the warm June sun on his face and the familiar sea breeze in his hair. In the air was the smell of the ocean and on his lips the taste of the salt water.

Realizing that Digby was still beside him, he whirled on the distinguished older gentleman and greeted him with a surprising mix of hostility and anguish.

"What is all this, Digby? More torture, another 'mistake'?" He was breathing heavily causing his voice to break slightly.

"No, Captain. Everything is as it appears. You are alive and, I believe, you have ruined your shoes. Tsk , tsk, tsk." Digby clucked his tongue and shook his head in a 'shame on you' fashion. His whole demeanor was one of I-know-something-you-don't-know.

"If this is some sort of joke, I swear to you, emissary or not..."

"No need for threats, my man. I understand your confusion, now if you'll permit me to explain?" He held his hands out, seeking permission to continue.

The Captain nodded impatiently, his mind racing.

"Good. Well, if you recall, Captain, when first we met in the attic I said that there were events of which you were unaware, events involving you. To be honest, Captain, your death was untimely..."

"You're telling me," The Captain interrupted sarcastically.

"No, what I mean is that it wasn't your time. Your accident was not part of your intended life pattern."

The Captain rolled his eyes, "Can't you chaps get anything right?"

Digby turned defensive. "Well, it's a big world, Captain. And let's not forget that it was your own clumsiness thatstarted this entire chain of events. You would think that a grown man left alone in his bedroom could somehow manage to make it through the night!"

Digby forced himself back to the issue at hand. "But, in any case, you were no longer a part of the living world and you were still unsuited to full participation in our spirit world. Your stubborn temperament and your resistance and anger at your death precluded us from accepting you entirely. However, rather than cast you out, it was deemed that there was hope for you, although I admit I had my doubts." His expression told the Captain that he still held that same opinion, but before the Captain could provide an appropriate response, Digby continued. "And so, upon your death I remanded your spirit to Gull Cottage until such time as a suitable solution could be worked out. It was not until the Muir's came along that our hopes for you were realized.

"As I also indicated, we did underestimate the role you would play in their lives. A regrettable error on our part. We felt that serving out your penance, that is, experiencing your one true love but having to endure waiting for her to join you, would be enough for you to eventually ascend fully to our plane when the time came. Recently we reached a crossroads, the unrest in your house had caused us to re-evaluate your presence there. We had a decision to make; your spirit would either stay or move on. Either choice would have caused the family pain. That is, of course, unacceptable. We considered removing you from their conscious memory, but that would undo the good you have done them, especially young Jonathan. And we would still have the problem of what to do with you. This led us to consider our one other option, rare but not without precedent. However, you had to prove yourself once more. Your final selfless act, leaving the very people you came to love, convinced us that you had finally earned your true destiny." He met the Captain's inquiring eyes and nodded. "Yes. You and Carolyn should have been together all along. We also came to realize that the entire family deserved a better future than they faced with you as a spirit."

The Captain stared at the elder spirit, trying to comprehend all the information he had just been given. "You can do this?" He held out his arms, re-familiarizing himself with the feel of his own body.

"Oh, really, Captain. _We _can do anything." Digby looked very smug and self satisfied, barely tolerating such a ridiculous question. "And so, the wrongs of the past have now been righted, and you have all been awarded your second chances." As he finished, he gestured toward the house atop the hill.

"Congratulations, Captain. Try not to muck it up."

Staring up at the home that housed his destiny, the Captain took a shaky deep breath. "A second chance...I never even considered that to be a possibility."

"It is hardly something we advertise, Captain. And please remember, it is _their _happiness that takes precedence, not yours. And it was their love for you that made this...necessary."

The Captain looked back at the tidy spirit of Digby and shook his head slowly. "I hardly know what to say."

"Just seeing you left without a smart remark is enough for me, Daniel. Now, I believe you will find things of your estate in order. The house is once again in your name and your nephew has been compensated. As far as anyone outside the family is concerned you are a descendant of the original Captain Daniel Gregg. Oh, and you will find a wardrobe of suitable clothes in the guestroom closet."

The Captain shot him a look. "Guestroom?"

"Considering your history with women, I should have put you in a hotel on the far side of town! There are children in the house, Captain." Digby's disapproving eyebrow returned and the Captain bowed to his elder. "Anyway, I assume it won't be too long before you and Mrs. Muir have things...sorted out."

Digby returned his attention to his mental checklist. "You have been provided with identification and a verifiable history. As I am sure you have no interest in active naval duty at this time, you are listed as retired from the service. There will be other details which shall fall into place as time goes by. Otherwise, you are as they say, on your own." Digby smiled and toyed with his mustache. "Now I'm quite pleased to say that I must take my leave of you."

The Captain smiled, still hardly believing his good fortune. He clapped his hands in front of him and rubbed them together, reveling in the feel of his own flesh. "Alive again. Thank you, Digby." Before he could realize what he had done, he extended his right hand to the older man.

The spirit of Digby just looked at it, stiffened and clasped his hands behind his back. The Captain withdrew his hand and nodded a respectful goodbye.

"Until we meet again, Captain Gregg. Let's hope we both get it right this time, eh?" And he was gone.

Standing alone for a moment at the shoreline, Daniel Gregg took in a deep breath, filling his nostrils and lungs with the fresh smells of the sea that he loved so much. Closing his eyes and turning his face skyward he said a silent prayer of thanks. With a smile breaking across his lips he laughed out loud and started up the beach, toward Gull Cottage. His pace quickening with every step, it wasn't long before he was practically at a dead run. He chose to forsake the longer footpath in favor of the more direct route up the bluff. Carelessly climbing up the rocky hillside, he stumbled on a loose stone. Placing his arm out to break his fall he caught his shirtsleeve on a jagged edge, piercing the skin slightly. Muttering a half-hearted curse, he continued up the hill. His heart soaring, he did not even notice the small amount of blood trickling from under his torn shirt.

Coming over the crest near the house, he paused watching Candy and Jonathan tossing a ball to Scruffy. Almost instantly the little dog sensed his presence and cocked his head and perked up his ears. The children stopped playing and looked to see what had caught Scruffy's attention.

"Look!" cried Candy. "It's Mr. Callahan!"

As she spoke, Scruffy bolted from the front yard and bounded over the stone wall. He ran across the roadway and, barking and wagging his tail, jumped into the arms of the tall bearded man.

The Captain ruffled the small dog's fur and gently put him back down on the road. "Hello, boy, it's good to see you again, too." Scruffy continued dancing around, jumping and yapping, following him as he walked closer to the house.

As Jonathan watched his dog greet the familiar man, his face lit up with undoubting joy. "No, It's Captain Gregg! It's Captain Gregg!" And he, too, fled the yard, instinctively running into the Captain's strong arms, knowing in his heart he would be caught.

The Captain bent down to meet the boy and caught him as he jumped off the stone wall. With Jonathan's thin arms wrapped around his neck, the Captain buried his misty eyes in the boy's shoulder, holding him tighter than he could ever remember holding anyone in his life.

"Hello, lad."

"Hi, Captain! I took good care of your sword!"

"You mean _your _sword. It was meant to be a gift."

"Gee, thanks!" Jonathan tightened his grip around the Captain's neck.

Candy, being old enough to doubt her own eyes, approached more cautiously. "Captain Gregg?"

"Yes, Candy." Still holding Jonathan, he reached out with his free hand and cupped her chin in his hand.

Candy smiled broadly and said, "Where've you been? Mom was worried." Then, noticing his bloody shirt sleeve, she added, "Hey, you ripped your shirt and ..._you're bleeding!_"

The Captain looked at his arm and laughed. "So I am. Wonderful, isn't it?"

"Heck, no!" said Jonathan. "I usually get in trouble!"

"I didn't think ghosts could bleed," said Candy.

"They can't," laughed Jonathan, wise beyond his years.

Candy took the Captain's hand and led him to the front porch, calling for Martha as she dragged. Scruffy still yapped happily behind them.

"Martha! Martha, guess what? It's Captain Gregg!"

The Captain stopped short. "Martha? Where is your mother?"

Before the children could reply, Martha appeared at the front door. "What's all the racket? You kids are going to sag my soufflé!" Wiping her hands on her apron, she looked at the sight before her. The kids, the dog, the Captain. The Captain!

"Look, Martha, he's come back," said Candy.

"Yeah," added Jonathan, "and he's _bleeding_. Isn't it neat?"

Martha eyed the handsome, obviously human, man on the porch suspiciously. "Neat? I guess that's one word for it. I would have chosen 'impossible' myself?"

The Captain gently put Jonathan down on the porch. He bowed slightly to the older woman. "Martha."

"Go on in and get your snack, kids. There's cookies and milk on the table." When the kids were out of earshot she turned back to the Captain. "All right, Buster, what's going on here? What are you trying to pull?"

"Pull?" The Captain stifled a small laugh. "Martha, I assure you I am who I appear to be." As he spoke, the sputtering sound of Claymore's car drew near. They both watched as he approached, humming as he skipped down the flagstone walkway. The Captain smiled in delightful anticipation of meeting his nephew on even footing.

"Good day, Martha. Good day, Captain."

Claymore was obviously in good spirits, leading both to silently assume it had something to do with money.

"Claymore, lad, always a pleasure." The Captain spoke with disarming affection and extended his right hand to Claymore.

"Why thank you, Captain," said Claymore, genuinely surprised and pleased, absently extended his own hand. "May I say you are looking quite well today? Ahhhhh!" Finally, noticing the handshake he recoiled in horror and quickly placed himself behind an amused Martha.

"Don't you ever tire of hiding behind a woman's skirt?" The Captain teased, in much too good of a mood to be threatening, even to Claymore.

"All right, Captain. You've convinced me!" Martha laughed. 'I don't know what's going on, but I have a feeling it's going to get very interesting around here!"

Ignoring the shocked and cowering Claymore, the Captain got straight to the matter foremost on his mind. "Where is Mrs. Muir?"

"Boston. Won't be back 'till tomorrow."

They entered the house, steering in to the living room, away from the kids ears.

"Tomorrow?" asked the Captain, obviously distressed. "That will never do, you must summon her back, today...right now!"

"Captain, it's awfully late in the day for her to start that long drive," Claymore offered. Then, shrinking from the Captain's intense look, he quickly added, "Yes. Now, today...I think you should call her, Martha." He smiled hard to please his uncle.

"All right, but what'll I tell her?"

"Tell her..." The Captain paused, some things needed to be done in person. "Tell her she is needed at home, right away."

Martha left, heading for the telephone in the hall. She gently shook her head, smiling in disbelief at what she was about to do.

The Captain turned back to Claymore, who was staring at him. "What are you staring at?"

Claymore had become accustomed to the unbelievable happening at Gull Cottage, but this was over the top even for him. "Well, Captain, I mean...you're alive. Aren't you?"

"That's a brilliant observation You've obviously missed your calling, perhaps you should have attended correspondence _medical _school..." Then he remembered his nephew's high spirits when he arrived at the house. Playing a hunch, he said, "Tell me, Claymore, why were you in such a good mood when you arrived today?"

"Oh that," said Claymore, brightening. "Well, Mr. Anderson was so terrified by his visit to Gull Cottage that he practically cut the value of the house in half, sight unseen."

"Really?" The Captain was enjoying himself immensely.

"Yes. It seems Mr. Anderson feels that haunting lowers property values, Captain. It's like living near an airport or a toxic waste dump. Makes the house virtually unsellable in any market, thus causing the estimated value to plummet." He squealed in glee.

"Well, then I suppose that you will be happy to have Gull Cottage off your hands..."

"Oh no, Captain! Now, oh-hoh, I can finally begin to turn a profit." Claymore was so enthralled by the prospect that he failed to see the living Captain as an obstacle.

"Don't you have to actually own the property to realize a profit, Claymore?"

"Of course..." Claymore failed to follow.

"Have you checked the deed lately?"

"No, it's locked in the safe in my office." Then a sudden, terrifying realization. "Why, what have you done?"

"Do you really think that I am going to pay rent on a house I built with my own two hands?" The Captain's tone was syrupy sweet.

"No, the house is mine! You can't do that!"

"Why not? I did this!" the Captain spread his hands, referring to his current human form.

"No, it's mine! Alive or not, I've earned that profit, every nickel! It's not fair!" Claymore ran from the room, heading to his office to check the deed. The laughing Captain did not bother to tell him that he had also been paid for the loss of the property.

Martha returned with the children, saying that she had reached Mrs. Muir and that she had convinced her to come home.

"Marvelous," the Captain said to himself as he brought his hand to his ear.

"What's this?" said Martha, noticing the blood on his torn shirt for the first time. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I just stumbled coming up from the beach."

"The beach?" Martha now also noticed the waterlogged shoes on his feet. "Oh swell, you've been alive ten minutes and you've ruined a shirt and a pair of shoes. You're worse than Jonathan..."

Jonathan tugged on his sleeve. "See, I told ya you'd get in trouble."

The Captain smiled and shrugged at him, happy to be one of the boys.


	7. Chapter 7

SECOND CHANCES

Part Seven

"Where is she?" The Captain quickly paced in front of the bay window in the living room. He turned to face the rather amused figure of Martha, seated knitting in the wing chair next to the fireplace. "Something must be wrong."

"Oh, nothing's wrong, Captain. And for Heaven's sake stop pacing, you're wearing out the floor. I told Mrs. Muir to come home and she's on her way. Boston's not 'round the corner, you know..."

"Boston? I could have circumnavigated the globe by now! Why, I have made more rapid journeys on horseback."

Martha laughed. "Well, I'm sure ol'Paint had a bit more horsepower under the hood than that old station wagon."

"Automotive machinery has nothing to do with it. Females are genetically incapable of being on time for anything!"

Grinning ear to ear, Martha was thoroughly enjoying the Captain's impatience. "Well, maybe, but you have to admit that you males sure seem to love us anyway."

"I admit nothing." He shook a disapproving finger at her. "And you, Madam, can stop that snickering at once!"

"I'm sorry, Captain, it's just that I've never seen you so nervous before."

"Nervous!! I am not now, nor have I ever been, nervous! Cautious, anxious, perhaps even apprehensive at times, but never 'nervous'. No, I'll leave such useless emotional states to lily-livered jellyfish like Claymore. Nervous, indeed!"

He seated himself on the couch and crossed his feet up on the coffee table. Arms crossed across his strong chest he stroked the edge of his beard with his fingertips, the very picture of relaxed discomfort. He forced a smile in Martha's general direction, eliciting smothered giggles in return.

After what seemed like an eternity, lights flashed in the window as the car turned into the drive. Martha quickly rose from her chair and crossed the room toward the double doors leading to the hall.

"That'll be Mrs. Muir. I think I'll go check on the children," she said with a knowing smile.

The Captain rose, keeping careful tabs on his composure, and walked to the fireplace. He suddenly became aware of the pounding in his chest. He resisted the urge the run to the door and place his heart at her feet. He placed his arm on the mantle, as much to steady himself as to present a casual appearance. At long last, he heard the familiar voice from the entryway. He closed his eyes and waited.

"Martha. What a long day," she placed her purse and briefcase on the chair near the door. She removed her sweater and tossed it on the arm of the chair.

"Good evening, Mrs. Muir. How was Boston?"

"Exhausting. So, tell me what is it that couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"Well, it's not so much a 'what' as a 'who', Mrs. Muir. You have a guest." Martha gestured to the half closed doors to the living room. Bending close to Carolyn's ear she added, "Marry him the moment he asks you."

Carolyn let out a small laugh, her first in days, and cocked her head in response. "That must be some guest..." As she entered the room she stopped short at the sight of the figure by the fireplace.

"Guest? No Captain is a passenger aboard his own ship."

There was no mistaking the voice. The physical presence is what took her by surprise, and not just because he was in different clothes. As the Captain turned to face her she noticed how blue his eyes were. His familiar face seemed tanned and he somehow appeared larger, more imposing than ever before. It was as though she were seeing him for the first time, and the same thought came to mind as had on that first occasion: _magnificent._

So many emotions flooded her mind at once; incredible relief at seeing him again, embarrassed discomfort at facing him for the first time since their very emotional confrontation several days before, anger at his leaving her to worry, and finally doubt about what she was truly seeing. It could not be the Captain standing before her. This man was obviously alive and, apparently, very well. Her own heart pounded with possibilities while her head recommended a steady course. She stared, frozen and expressionless for several moments.

"It is I, dear lady," he said softly. It took all the restraint he possessed not to instantly sweep her into his arms. Somehow he knew he must let the shock wear off before giving in to emotion.

Carolyn slowly shook her head in disbelief. She found her voice. "No. No, it can't be. This is some sort of a joke, right? I mean, it's just not possible..."

"These past few days I have learned that, under the right circumstances, anything is possible." He crossed the room and stood very near to her. For a long moment their eyes met. Never altering his gaze, the Captain took her hand in his. They both felt the electricity as their flesh touched for the first time.

"How lovely you look tonight." Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed her lightly on the fingertips.

Carolyn gasped slightly as her hand brushed his beard. She tentatively broke free of his hand and gently touched the side of his face, her eyes still locked on his. There was no doubting the love she found there.

"It _is _you. Tell me I'm not dreaming."

He smiled down at her. "Not this time, my dear. Not this time."

They heard Martha rather noisily making her way back downstairs, so as not to interrupt anything.

"Blast," the Captain muttered to himself.

Self-consciously they separated, with the Captain resuming his pose at the edge of the fireplace, his arm resting on the mantle, his fingers rubbing his right ear. He soon realized that his hand bore the lingering scent of Carolyn's favorite perfume.

The three stood in awkward silence for a moment or two. The Captain's eyes rarely left Carolyn, taking in everything about her as he often did when she was in the room. Of course, prior to this night, his admiring glances usually went unnoticed by human eyes. For her part, Carolyn was still quite shocked and confused by the events unfolding before her. She had a million questions that she was afraid to ask. She couldn't help but keep her own gaze fixed on him, afraid that if she so much as blinked he would be gone. It was Martha who broke the deafening silence.

"Well, the children are off to sleep. Jonathan was so excited, I didn't think he'd ever give in. I think you wore them out, Captain," Martha smiled and gestured toward the Captain. "They didn't leave him alone for a minute, Mrs. Muir. I wouldn't be surprised if Jonathan wants to bring the Captain in to school for Show-and-Tell."

"I can just imagine," Carolyn responded. Her voice somewhat distant, still a bit unsteady. "Looks like you've got yourself a playmate, Captain."

"Quite. He's a fine lad, and Candy is a lovely girl...not to mention a great hitter."

They all laughed and lapsed into awkward silence again.

"Can I get you anything, Mrs. Muir, before I turn in?"

Carolyn looked at her watch in surprise. "Turn in? It's not even nine o'clock..." _Am I afraid to be alone with him?_

"Well, I've got a book I'm just dying to finish." She was obviously lying, and enjoying it as well, but never one to leave with an unexpressed thought, she added: "Besides, it's a bit crowded in this room, what with the elephant and all...Goodnight." Martha left, closing the double doors behind her.

Carolyn blushed and the Captain suppressed a smile beneath his hand. He moved to the table where the bottle of brandy sat. Pouring two glasses, he spoke first.

"Your housekeeper is quite perceptive, Madam. Irritating, but perceptive." He handed Carolyn a glass and gestured for her to have a seat on the couch. After she had done so, he took a long draw on the brandy enjoying the aroma and taste. With a gentle swirl, he held the glass up to the light of the fireplace, admiring the color and body of the liquid. "One never forgets the simple pleasures your senses can provide."

"I should hope not," said Carolyn, sipping from her own glass. She desperately tried to sound casual. Her reporter's mind still doubted what her heart already knew for certain. "It's what makes life worthwhile."

"Indeed." The Captain caught himself looking at her again. He seated himself on the couch, turned slightly to face her. He placed his glass on the table in front of them and then took Carolyn's glass from her hand and did the same. "Isn't it about time _we _acknowledged the elephant in the room?"

"I...I don't know where to start." She was afraid that the answer to her inquiries would provide the ultimate disappointment, that somehow this was but another fragile, and temporary, illusion. Or worse, she might discover that this man was not who he appeared to be. Carolyn chose to begin with the obvious.

"What's going on? How did you..." She was silenced by his finger on her lips. A chill went through her body as he touched her again. All doubts as to his identity faded as he smiled and moved his hand from her lips across her face and tenderly smoothed her hair. Although impossible, she knew his lover's touch. "Captain..." she whispered.

"The tea party is over, Carolyn."

Carolyn's face flushed red as she heard him utter her name. Unable to hold back any longer she fell into his arms, "Daniel." Her voice was tentative as she spoke his name for the first time, but her physical response was unrestrained. Their first embrace was as tender and electrifying as they had each imagined. After a long while of silent passion, they separated, recovering their breath and composure. Carolyn nuzzled her face in his neck, her arm draped across his chest, unconcerned about the how and why of their current situation.

Daniel leaned back on the couch, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. He gradually became aware of a muffled sound from his neck. Pulling away slightly, he looked down into the tearful face of the woman he loved.

"I am compelled to confess that this is not the reaction for which I had hoped." His face registered his utter confusion.

Carolyn laughed beneath her sobs. She looked up at him and stroked the side of his beard with the back of her fingers. "I'm sorry. I've been such a mess lately. Trying to hold everything in and to be strong for the children. And then you left and I thought...And now this, it's just so, so...unbelievable." She tried to catch her breath, laughing and crying and releasing the pent up emotion of the last few weeks.

He held her close, rubbing her back to comfort her. He felt the softness of her hair. He felt the warmth of her body in his hands and the dampness of her tears on his neck. For the first time in a century he felt like a man and, for the first time ever, Daniel Gregg felt like man in love.

After a short time, Carolyn sat up and wiped her eyes. She took a tissue from her skirt pocket and dried her face. Now laughing, she looked up at her Captain.

"I'm sorry, I must look a mess."

The Captain shook his head. "I can honestly say that you have never appeared more beautiful to me than at this very moment." He wiped away her last tear with his hand as he stroked her face.

Again blushing, Carolyn dropped her gaze for a moment, looking at the glasses on the table before her, averting her eyes from his. Then, aware that he was still looking at her, it dawned on her that this moment was unlike all the other compliments she had received from him. There was no need for retreat, no longer cause for denying the feelings he stirred inside her. She looked up and found his eyes still fixed on her, his expression revealing the same thoughts.

She met his intense look with one of her own. "Thank you." She decided to return the compliment. "And speaking of appearances, I once thought that your portrait didn't do you justice, I now realize that I could say the same for your spirit."

The Captain laughed, running his hand away from her face and lightly down her arm. "It would seem, Madam, that we have something of a mutual admiration society."

Their conversation again familiar and casual, Carolyn was finally feeling comfortable enough to take the initiative. "Oh, I don't know, _Captain." _Playfully reminding him of his own earlier admonition. "I think we have more than that..." She pulled closer to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with the curls at the back of his hair. The kiss she offered him revealed all the deepest emotion she had denied ever since meeting him, emotion which he eagerly accepted and returned.

They became lost in their passion for each other, unaware of the passage of time. They were slowly becoming as familiar with each other physically as they were spiritually, when suddenly a great thunderclap pierced the romantic silence of their private world and lightning flashed a warning across the firelit room. They broke their embrace, startled at the interruption.

"Oh, blast!" The Captain was instantly aware of the warning Digby had given him on the beach.

Carolyn looked up quizzically, "Did... you do that?"

"No," he sighed, glancing upward. A mass of conflicting emotions, the Captain forced himself to pull away from her slightly. He knew if they remained entwined on the couch much longer that there would be a storm of their own creation.

"What would you say to a stroll...on the beach?" He looked and sounded very much like someone who was trying to convince himself that this was a very good idea. He was unable to take his eyes off the beautiful woman sitting within his reach. "In the fresh air?"

Carolyn was shocked, not to mention disappointed. "A stroll? You mean, _now_?"

The Captain stood beside her, taking her hands in his and pulling her up to a standing position. He ran his hands along her back stopping as he reached the start of her slightly rumpled skirt. With a reluctant shake of his head and a smile he released her, took her hand and led her out the door of Gull Cottage, stopping only long enough to grab her sweater from the chair in the hall.

The night was cool for mid-June, even by Maine standards, but the moonlight illuminated their path to the beach. They walked hand in hand for some time in silence, enjoying the sound of the surf.

"I suppose you would like an explanation for my present condition?" His voice was soft, but still a beacon of strength in the quiet of the night.

"Among other things," Carolyn responded with a laugh as she dropped his hand and interlocked her arm tightly in his.

He nodded in agreement. Stopping and turning to face her, he was rendered almost breathless at the sight of her bathed in the soft light of the moon.

Mistaking his distracted state for apprehension, Carolyn feared that there was something he was reluctant to tell her. "Daniel, is this temporary?" She had to know, it was the question nagging at her since she first realized it was, indeed, him before her.

"Life is always temporary, my dear," he smiled as he spoke. "And, thankfully, in my case so was death."

"But how? How did you manage this?" She feared his answer, wondering what he had sacrificed to gain this incredible end.

"I am flattered by your faith in my powers, Madam, but I assure you that even I could not begin to conceive of accomplishing this particular feat."

"Well then, who did?"

"It was you, dear lady."

"Me? I don't understand..."

"Yes, you. Or more, specifically, your love for me, yours and the children's. My life is a gift from you and, I suppose, to you as well." He stood facing her, taking both her hands in his. "My spiritual presence in your lives was proving too painful for the spirits to allow. Removing me, or rather, my leaving...did nothing to lessen that pain. Since there were other extenuating circumstances as well, it was determined that I should be returned to this plane, to you and to the children, to live out my true destiny. Our true destiny." He brought her hands to his lips.

"Then you really did leave Gull Cottage?" She hadn't wanted to believe that he was really gone, that he was capable of leaving her.

"Yes," he admitted. "Looking back I must admit that I was...encouraged to do so, for your benefit. I must also admit that I charted that course with the deepest regret...It was, by far, the most difficult thing I have ever done."

"You didn't even say good-bye," Carolyn looked hurt.

"I couldn't. I knew that, despite our problems, if I saw you again I would never leave. I am still not even certain I could have stayed away. In fact, I highly doubt it. Anyway, it was the correct choice, one which earned me the right to be here with you now."

Her expression warmed with the realization that it had all worked out for the best. She leaned in close to him, resting her head on his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. She imagined herself falling asleep to that sound every night for the rest of their days.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him once more, suddenly a reporter. "What 'extenuating circumstances'?"

The Captain had also been distracted by his own thought of her in his arms and failed to follow her thought. "I beg your pardon?"

"You said there were 'other extenuating circumstances.' What did you mean?"

He laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "It's a long story." He decided to save the extended version of his encounter with Digby for a later time. "Let's just say that my death was really an accident, an...administrative error. The first of many, actually." He rolled his eyes.

"They have administrative errors in the afterlife?" Carolyn chuckled.

"Well, after all, they're only human. Or, at least, they were." They both laughed and he pulled her chin up to his and kissed her once more, gently and tenderly. "It happened about here, you know." He gestured around them to a spot at the waterline. "This is where I first appeared in this form."

"Really?" said Carolyn. She wished she could have been with him at that moment, slightly jealous that the children had seen him first.

"Yes," he looked away from the ocean and fixed his eyes on hers, taking her in his arms again. "Carolyn, my new life may have started then, but it didn't begin until I held you in my arms."

She flushed as he bent to one knee in the sand before her. She felt the warmth of his hand as he held hers. Sensing what was coming, she tried to memorize every detail, almost detaching herself from her body so she could watch the moment unfold.

"I am not sure what I ever did to deserve this gift of life, nor what I have done to deserve your love. But I promise you that neither one is misplaced in me. I have been returned once more to this Earth with but one purpose. To love you and your children forever, in this life and the next. And I do love you, Carolyn Muir." The tears in his eyes and the tightness in his throat prevented him for saying more. His voice breaking, he managed to utter the phrase he had practiced a thousand times, "Carolyn, will you marry me?"

Whether it was the overriding sound of the surf against the rocks or the absence of sound from her throat he did not know, but the Captain heard no audible response to his question. He only saw her tears of joy and the small nod of her head as she bent down to meet him. As they kissed again, they settled into the sand, sitting facing the shoreline. She nestled in between his knees, leaning against his chest with his arms and body wrapped around her to shield her from the cool breeze. They sat for several hours, as comfortable as an old married couple and as excited by each other as teenagers experiencing love for the first time.

In the course of their conversation, Carolyn turned her head toward him as he kissed her neck.

"Are you sure this is how you want to spend your new life, Captain?" Carolyn teased. "I mean, there is a whole new generation of conquests out there for you." Her tone became a bit more serious as she watched the moonlight dance on the horizon. "It's a different world, don't you have any desire to see it?"

His response was one of mock arrogance. "I have seen the world and it is vastly overrated." He could barely hold back his grin as he shrugged. "Besides, it's mostly water anyway." They both laughed aloud as he reached for her, his voice low and intimate. "And as for what I desire..." His expression revealed his hunger for her touch. "We must marry tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?!" She responded with amused outrage. "You've got to be kidding? You can't just throw a wedding together in 12 hours!"

"Madam, if you think I am going to spend another night on the couch like some blasted Boy Scout, you are out of your beautiful, female mind." He pulled her to him and kissed her, giving her a taste of the passion their wedding night would bring.

Completely convinced, and slightly woozy, Carolyn agreed, "You're right. Definitely tomorrow."

They walked back toward the house satisfied in their declaration, at long last, of their love for one another and anticipating the sweet ecstasy of the coming hours. When they reached the living room, the Captain allowed Carolyn to enter first. She crossed to the fireplace and warmed her hands on the last dying embers. He approached her from behind and slipped his arms around her waist and nuzzled his beard in her neck.

"It's very late, my darling, and you have a big day tomorrow. Or should I say today. Perhaps you should get some sleep." He kissed her just below her ear.

"No," she said quietly, wrapping her arms over his. "I'm not spending another night in that bed without you." She turned in his arms to face him. "I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

They spent the rest of the night on the couch talking about their shared miracle and enjoying each other's physical presence. Carolyn fell asleep to the strong beat of his heart as she imagined. For a long while Daniel watched her, remembering all those nights he would spend in their room wishing he could hold her as she slept. Eventually he, too, gave in to mortal slumber and dozed peacefully as dawn broke over the horizon.


	8. Chapter 8

SECOND CHANCES  
Part Eight

Carolyn woke first and managed to tear herself from the warmth of Daniel's arms, feeling that it would be inappropriate for the children to find them intertwined on the couch. She covered him with the afghan from the window seat and quietly made her way into the hall, closing the doors behind her. The strong smell of fresh-brewed coffee was in the air indicating that Martha was already awake. Realizing that she was still in the clothes she arrived home in the night before, Carolyn decided in favor of discretion and began to tiptoe up the stairs.

"Good morning, Mrs. Muir," came the cheerful voice from behind.

Startled, Carolyn whirled around. "Oh, Martha. I was just...coming down...for breakfast."

Martha nodded, _of course you were._ "Uh, huh. I think you need to get your compass fixed." She took Carolyn by the arm and led her to the kitchen. "The kitchen's this way. Come on, I'll get your coffee. The children will be down any minute."

Martha poured coffee for both of them and then set out to get breakfast started for the children. As she worked it occurred to her that she would be cooking for a man, no doubt a hearty eater, from now on. Her face radiated the pleasure she took at the recent turn of fortune in the house. One glance at her distracted employer and friend told Martha that Carolyn had not spent the night alone in the living room.

"Is the Captain still asleep?" Martha gestured toward the closed doors.

Carolyn considered pleading ignorance, but realized it was useless. She settled for a slightly bashful nod.

"And how is he?" Martha inquired.

Carolyn thought for a moment. "Eager," she pronounced.

Martha laughed, "Yes, well I noticed that myself yesterday. Can't say as I blame him though. Imagine what it must be like after all these years," she leaned in closer. "Talk about a sailor on shore leave!" She broke herself up laughing.

Carolyn's face flushed red. "Martha!" Of course, she failed to mention that she felt a bit like a sailor on leave herself.

As they both laughed, they heard a thunderous stampede on the stairs.

"Must be the elephant," offered Martha.

Jonathan and Candy tore around the corner of the kitchen.

"Mom! You're back!" cried Candy.

"Did you see Captain Gregg? Did you see him?" Jonathan asked. "Isn't it great?"

Carolyn took his hand in hers, as happy for him as she was for herself. "Yep. It is great. But keep it down, he's still asleep."

"I thought seamen got up early, to meet the tide," Jonathan said.

Carolyn looked at Martha, whose smile indicated that she would offer no assistance in explaining the sleepy seaman on the couch.

"Well, I guess they do, but... the Captain was up a bit late last night and..."

"Doing what?" Jonathan wondered.

"Breakfast is ready, kids. Dig in." Saved by the breakfast bell. Martha gave a wink to Carolyn, who nodded a silent 'thank you' in return.

Carolyn took the opportunity to fill the family in on their plans. Outside of Martha's feigned outrage at having so little time to prepare, the news was, to say the least, well received. Martha instantly took charge, phoning all necessary personnel at home, and turning the family kitchen into Wedding Central. Within an hour most of Schooner Bay was on full alert for the Muir-Gregg nuptials. Even Claymore checked in to say that somehow, quite mysteriously, a signed, pre-dated marriage license had appeared on his desk for one Carolyn Muir and Daniel Gregg.

A short time later, the Captain had awakened and set out to find his bride-to-be. Finding the downstairs deserted except for Claymore and Scruffy, who were both eating in the kitchen, he ventured upstairs. He was met just outside the bedroom door by Martha, who was helping Carolyn select her clothes and makeup.

"Good morning, Captain." Martha seemed especially cheerful.

"Good morning, Martha."

"Mrs. Muir said you're getting married today..Is that true?" She could barely conceal her excitement.

"Yes," he announced proudly.

"Well, congratulations!" Martha brought her hands together in front of her, a broad smile across her wide face. In an instant, her sweet demeanor vanished. "Now get lost!"

"I beg your pardon, Madam!" He was taken aback at being spoken to so harshly.

"You can't see her until the wedding. It's bad luck."

The Captain could not imagine that, after all he had been through to get to this point, he would be denied contact with Carolyn under any circumstances. "That's utterly ridiculous! Surely you don't believe that superstitious poppycock..."

Martha folded her arms across her apron, a formidable presence blocking the door to the bedroom. "Oh and I suppose there's no such thing as a superstitious sailor right?"

"That's seaman, blast it! And that is completely different. I command you to stand aside!"

Martha laughed. "Well, I'm the skipper of the good ship Wedding Day and I'm ordering you to beat it." She grabbed his shoulders, not failing to notice their firmness, and turned him around, giving him a gentle shove. "It's going to be a lovely day, why don't you take Claymore out and find a nice spot outside to hold the ceremony. We'll take care of things in here.."

The Captain could not have seen Carolyn, smiling on the other side of the bedroom door, having heard the entire exchange. And he did not see her as she carefully slipped off the gold band on her finger and placed it in the jewelry box and firmly closed the lid.

"By the powers, this is what I've come to? Ordered about like a cabin boy on my own ship!" He looked back at the closed bedroom door as he spoke, anxious for a time when he would never be denied Carolyn's company again. Before going back downstairs, he stopped off in the attic to locate one of his family heirlooms, a gold Claddagh ring, from Ireland, which had once belonged to his mother.

The Captain and Claymore made their way across the Cottage property along the footpath heading to the bluff overlooking the beach. The Captain was, of course, leading the way as Claymore lagged behind, refusing to even stand upright when near the edge of the small cliff.

"Where are we going, Captain? This looks dangerous. You know, I really don't like heights." He crept along clutching rocks and testing his footing with every step.

"Heights? Why you spineless coward! You're a disgrace to the Gregg line! How would you have done standing on a mast unfurling a sail a hundred feet above a rolling ocean?"

"Not very well! And do you have to mention rolling? The last thing I need right now is to get dizzy..."

"Here! This is the perfect spot!" The Captain clapped his hands in front of him in a gesture of satisfied elation.

Claymore looked around, unimpressed.

They were at a small clearing overlooking the beach. Below them was the spot where the Captain first appeared with Digby, the same stretch of beach where he proposed to Carolyn. At one time, the clearing appeared to have been used as a patio of sorts, surrounded by stone walls and benches. The Captain remembered that it was here that he surrendered his ego to Jonathan in return for First Prize in the essay competition at school.

"The perfect spot for what, Captain?" Claymore looked down at the waves crashing on the rocky coastline below him. "You're not thinking of, you know,..." He clasped his hands in front of him and made a diving motion, pantomiming jumping off the cliff. "...again? Are you?"

The Captain drew very near the cowering Claymore. "No, you dolt. But as you are no longer the last surviving Gregg how about we do the living world a favor and let our guests find your broken body on the rocks? Now, that would be a wedding gift to remember!"

Pulling away, Claymore said, "Ummm, couldn't I just get you a toaster?"

"Cheapskate." The Captain shook his head in disgust.

"Well, I took a beating on the house, you know Captain." He drew in closer, as if to avoid anyone else hearing. "It was worth twice what they gave me, especially since it's no longer haunted!" He pointed upward at the term 'they', covering his index finger with the open palm of his other hand.

"Well, when you finally meet them may I suggest you present them with a bill? Ask for Digby, tell him _I _sent you." He placed his hand on the back of Claymore's neck, pulling him closer to the edge. "Of course, if you'd like I can arrange an introduction right now..."

"No! I can wait." Claymore quickly scampered from the edge. "But I'm compounding interest."

"Delivery for you, Mrs. Muir!" Martha called up the stairs as she placed he package on the table in the hall. "Don't worry, the coast is clear!"

Returning to the kitchen, she said, "Oh, this is the last day I'll call your mother that." She took a handkerchief from her apron pocket and dabbed her eyes.

"What does she mean?" asked Jonathan as he looked up from the freshly prepared plate of cookies and desserts before him on the kitchen table.

"It means that Mother's name won't be Muir anymore. It will be Gregg, like the Captain's. When a lady gets married she takes the husbands last name." Candy patiently explained.

"What about us?" asked Jonathan.

"What about you?" asked Carolyn as she entered the kitchen. Her hair was beautifully done, but she was still dressed in a robe.

"When your name is Gregg, what will our name be?"

"Well, Jonathan, it will still be Muir..."

"But I thought we were _all _getting married! You said we were going to be a real family, all of us together!" Jonathan was genuinely upset.

"Oh, we will be. A real family, I promise." Carolyn reassured the boy.

"Then we should all have the same name!"

Carolyn couldn't help but smile at his desire to be a Gregg. She played along, "Well, if you're sure that's what you want..."

"It is! We're sure!" Jonathan and Candy interrupted.

"...then I suppose the Captain could...adopt you."

"What's adopt?" asked Jonathan.

"It just means that he would really become your father and you could both take his name."

The children exchanged excited looks.

'What do we have to do?" Candy took charge.

"Why not ask the Captain," Carolyn suggested. "After all, it's his name!"

"Let's go find him!"

"You'll find him outside somewhere with Claymore. Just follow the arguing..." Martha barely got the words out before she was nearly run over as the children bolted for the front door.

Carolyn felt herself warm all over. A real family. She would have the husband of her dreams and the children would have the father they already adored. She rubbed the pale spot on her left ring finger, where she had removed her wedding band. It was hard to believe that not twenty-four hours before she was contemplating a life without even Daniel's spiritual presence, and now she could contemplate spending the coming night wrapped tightly in his arms and his love.

"Mrs. Muir?" Martha was pouring coffee for both, offering one to Carolyn.

Carolyn was only vaguely aware that Martha was talking to her. She returned her attention to the woman before her in the kitchen. "I'm sorry, Martha. I'm afraid I'm a bit distracted this morning." She accepted the coffee with a shy grin.

"Well, I think I can manage to forgive you under the circumstances," Martha teased. "After all, it's not every day a girl gets married to a man who died a hundred years ago."

"It's kind of unbelievable, isn't it?" Carolyn couldn't believe they were having this conversation. As much as the Captain had been like a member of the family, their personal relationship was always a private affair. Even Martha, obviously aware of their hopeless situation, had always given them a wide berth. The two women had never really discussed the Captain before, except in the most general terms.

"A miracle, Mrs. Muir. A miracle." Martha was suddenly serious. "I can't tell you how happy I am for you. I'm still not sure I understand it myself, but I am sure that I've never seen a man more in love." She looked up over the brim of her raised cup of coffee. "Or a woman."

As they walked down to the beach, Candy turned to her brother.

"What do you think he'll say?"

"I think he'll say it's a great idea!"

"Maybe he wouldn't want us to be Greggs."

"Why not?" Jonathan was outraged at the mere thought.

"Well, he doesn't want Claymore to be one and he really is a Gregg."

"That's different, the Captain _likes_ us!"

"I don't know, Jonathan, the Captain seems awfully picky about the Gregg name."

The children found the Captain surveying the bluff and trying to convince Claymore that his aversion to heights was further proof of the absence of Gregg blood in the latter's flabby body. While they usually found the Captain's dialogues with Claymore entertaining, they had more serious business at hand.

"Captain," Candy began, "Can we talk to you?"

Happy to be interrupted, the Captain turned to them. "Of course, children, sit down." He gestured to the stone benches behind him. Obediently, they sat, but were obviously reluctant to continue.

Candy glanced at Claymore, who was mopping his sweaty brow with a handkerchief, still uncomfortable with his close proximity to the cliff and to his uncle.

"Well, it's kind of private," she said softly.

"Oh, I see." The Captain rubbed his chin, curious as to the reason for the private chat. "Claymore, would you excuse us?"

"Yes, gladly,"said Claymore, the relief very evident on his pale face. "I have to go and lie down..." He staggered off, in the general direction of the house.

The Captain placed his foot on the bench where the children were seated and leaned on his knee, staring into two slightly nervous faces. "Now, what can I do for you? It looks quite serious."

"It is," they answered together. They exchanged looks, trying to decide who would speak first. Finally, Candy spoke up.

"We want to be a family."

"Yeah, a real family," added Jonathan quickly, "with the same name and everything!"

"Yes, it's no fun if we have one name and you and Mom have another. I mean think how confusing it would be."

The Captain listened intently, trying not to smile as he realized where they were headed. He took his took his attention from one to another and back again as they described the hardship on everyone from their teachers to the town postman. When they finished, he decided to let them off the hook.

"Hmmm, I see where that would be a problem," he agreed. "I wonder what could be done to alleviate the situation?"

"Well, you could...adopt us?" Candy said hopefully.

"...and be our real father and everything!!" Jonathan could barely contain his excitement at the prospect.

The Captain gave them a very level look and he spoke softly. "Is that what you both want?"

They nodded enthusiastically.

"Well then, if it is all right with your mother..."

"She suggested it," Candy offered, beaming with the prospect of having a date with her father to attend the school dance.

"Oh she did, did she?" He took his foot off the bench and squatted in front of them. "In that case, I can think of none more worthy of bearing the Gregg name than the two of you."

"Does that mean yes?" asked Jonathan, just to be sure.

The Captain laughed. "It does."

They both jumped into his arms.

Jonathan looked up. "Captain, when we're married can we call you 'Dad'?"

"Of course," the Captain replied softly. "I would like that very much."

"Do you like the Red Sox?"

"Like them? Why lad, I made it rain for weeks when they sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees."

"Does that mean yes?"

Later that afternoon, the clearing on the bluff was bathed in fresh flowers and a white trellised arch. The few guests that were last minute invitees had assembled facing the ocean. Three strolling violinists quietly tuned their instruments. Carolyn's surprised parents had arrived as requested. Her mother was up front, getting to know her future son-in-law, and was obviously enchanted with his charming company. Jonathan was, of course, glued to the Captain's side fiddling with the antique ring box in his pocket. Claymore was standing at one end of the arch talking to the minister, his arms clutching the frame. He was trying to be nonchalant, but was unable to keep himself from constantly glancing at the nearby edge of the cliff.

The buffet table was set with catering courtesy of Norrie's Lobster House and desserts courtesy of Martha Grant. Martha, leaning on the arm of Ed Peevey, was wiping away tears of joy, perhaps the only guest fully aware of the miracle unfolding before them.

"Gee, Martha. Must have been quite a whirlwind romance between Mrs. Muir and that Gregg fella." Ed loosened his necktie, which was chafing his throat.

"Oh Ed, they've known each other for years."

"Funny, never seen him around here before." Ed narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And Claymore never mentioned any relative. You ever hear of any Gregg relative, Norrie?"

"Not me, Ed. Must say, though, that fella looks a mite familiar." They all eyed the tall, handsome stranger at the front of the gathering.

"Must be a family resemblance," Martha chuckled between sobs.

The Reverend officiating at the small service gave the Captain a nod, indicating that they were ready to begin.

"Ready, lad?"

"Ready, sir!" After a stiff salute, Daniel Gregg took his place under the arch with young Jonathan at his side. They both looked straight ahead toward the beach.

"Captain," the boy looked up at his hero, then corrected himself. "I mean, Dad...look!" Jonathan whispered and pointed to a small, tall-masted schooner on the horizon.

The Captain smiled and placed his arm across the boy's shoulders as the three violins started to play, announcing the entry of Candy, followed by Carolyn and her father. With his son at his side, Daniel Gregg turned his back to his mistress, the sea, and looked up the makeshift aisle. With the greatest peace his heart had ever known, he faced the rest of his family and friends, his house, his eternal mate, and his future. He faced his second chance.


End file.
